Marital Duties
by AndAllThatMishigas
Summary: Post s8 finale. Shelagh has been run ragged by all the children, and Patrick wants to be able to help more, despite being quite busy himself. He's missed her.


**Marital Duties**

Patrick had worked a long day at the maternity home. It was hell trying to get anything done without Shelagh there to assist. Miss Higgins did a very good job at what she did, of course, but working with Shelagh was always different. For one thing, Shelagh was a supremely experienced nurse and midwife, and her skills surpassed Patrick's own in many respects. Today had not been one of the days he had needed her midwifery talents, but because she was his wife, her presence was a balm on his stressed and weary soul in a way that no secretary or nurse could ever begin to attempt. And he wouldn't want them to. He wanted Shelagh.

But Shelagh was otherwise occupied for the last few days. Both Angela and May had been sick with the flu, and Teddy was regressing in his sleep. Tim went off to school and Patrick went off to work and poor Shelagh was run ragged caring for their two daughters and youngest son. Teddy seemed to be crying all the time, and when he wasn't, it was Angela or May who was taking a turn vomiting into a bowl beside their respective beds. There was always something for Shelagh to clean up, all the while making sure their little patients were keeping hydrated and fed whenever possible.

When Patrick arrived home that evening, it was well past suppertime. He'd been assisting with the birth of twins—no complications at all, but Sister Frances had been nervous to attend multiple births on her own. Tim had helped Shelagh clean up, and he was sitting on the sofa reading a book to Teddy when Patrick came in.

"Mum's with Angela. May is asleep. I'm going to put Teddy to bed when he falls asleep," Tim told his father.

Patrick came over to see his two sons, putting a grateful hand on Tim's shoulder and picking up Teddy to cuddle him close. "It's nearly your bedtime. Were you a good boy for Mummy today?"

Teddy did not answer. He just snuggled into his father's neck with his pajama-clad body wiggling as always.

"Why don't you try reading to him while he's in the cot? Hopefully we can get him to start falling asleep in there again sooner rather than later," Patrick suggested to Tim. He kissed his son's cheek and handed him over. Tim took the baby upstairs to his room. Patrick went in search of Shelagh.

He stopped into the girls' room and found them both sleeping peacefully. Ever the doctor, he felt their foreheads and was relieved to find no fever on either of them. Hopefully they were both on the mend now. The bowls by the beds looked like they had not been used in some time. Patrick whispered goodnight to Angela and to May and told them he loved them before softly closing the bedroom door behind him.

Eventually, he found Shelagh in their bedroom. She was lying on top of their bed still in her clothes from the day. Her legs were hanging off the edge of the bed but her eyes were closed. She looked as though she had just collapsed down in exhaustion.

"I was going to ask how your day was, but I think I can guess."

Shelagh's eyes opened and she pushed herself up onto her elbows. "Everyone is in bed or on their way to it. I just couldn't stay upright a second longer!" she told him.

Patrick came to sit beside her and patted her leg comfortingly. "I'm glad everyone seems to be doing better."

She nodded. "Both of the girls' fevers broke earlier today. They've both been exhausted, but they were able to come have supper with Tim and me and Teddy. May nearly fell asleep on top of her plate, so I put her to bed before Tim and I did the washing up, then I helped Angela in the bath while Tim took care of Teddy. I don't know what I'd do all on my own."

"I'm sorry I wasn't here to help. I should have been. You should have called me, Shelagh."

But she waved him off. "Your work is important. I wouldn't take you away from it unless absolutely necessary. And I've coped the last few days just fine. I'll keep the girls home again tomorrow to make sure they're properly recovered, and then they can go back to school on Thursday. And then I can come back to the surgery with you."

"Thank goodness. I miss you when you're not around."

"Miss Higgins and the other nurses are a suitable replacement, I'm sure."

Patrick sighed. "No one could ever replace you, Shelagh."

She smiled. "That's a very sweet thing to say."

"I mean it."

"Yes, I know you do." She gave a small huff of determination. "Right, if I do not get off this bed now, I won't be able to at all. I've got to change my clothes and wash my face," she said.

Patrick helped pull her up to a standing position. "Do you mind if I use the shower quickly? It's been a long day."

"Of course, go right ahead. I only need the sink for my face and to brush my teeth," Shelagh replied.

They went off in their separate directions. Patrick took his pajamas into the bathroom with him and Shelagh went to change into her nightgown. He was still in the shower when she brushed her teeth and washed her face. By the time he came out of the bathroom, she was in bed and putting lotion on her arms.

"Are you going to read tonight?" she asked. "I'm too exhausted for it, myself."

Patrick got into bed beside her. "No, we can turn the light out," he said.

The room went into darkness as they both got settled under the covers. Shelagh turned to him and placed a soft hand on his cheek. "Goodnight, dear," she murmured before pressing a kiss to his lips.

But Patrick could not let her go with just that. He gathered her in his arms and kissed her once more, moving his lips on hers and deepening it with passion. "I've missed you," he whispered when they broke apart for air.

"I'm so sorry, Patrick," she said sadly. "I've been neglecting my marital duties. We've both been busy, and I've been so tired. That's not fair at all. I can try to make it up to you, but I'm afraid I'll just fall asleep in the middle of whatever I try to do."

A cold grip of fear took hold of Patrick's chest. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, it's been a while since we've made love, and I feel as though I've been shirking my responsibilities as your wife," she explained.

"Shelagh, our love life is not your responsibility as my wife any more than it should be a duty you feel you owe to me. Have I ever made you feel as though I'm entitled to the…the _use_ of your body? Because if I ever have, I can't tell you how deeply I regret that."

"No, Patrick," she assured him. "You've never done anything like that, of course not. You're always so generous in our lovemaking. But we are married, and as your wife, there are certain things that I have to make sure to provide for you. I may have been a nun when we met, but I've never been naïve to how the world works. And I certainly enjoy performing my duties, I promise."

"But that's what I'm saying! There's no such thing as duties you're to provide for me just because I'm your husband. Not between us, at any rate. Shelagh, I don't just miss sex. I miss you. I miss holding you and kissing you and watching you lose yourself in pleasure," Patrick told her.

He wanted so desperately for her to understand. And before she could respond, he came up with a way to show her what he meant.

"Shelagh, let me help you relax. Let me take away all the stress and the exhaustion. Let me pleasure you," he begged. He rolled her onto her back and settled himself on top of her. But instead of kissing her lips and her neck and palming her breasts, he scooted himself down the bed.

"Oh Patrick, you don't need to…_oh_!" She had tried to make some kind of protest before he lifted up her nightdress and pressed a kiss to her knickers. He caught her thighs in the cage of his enormous hands, spreading her legs apart. He dragged his teeth over the cotton barrier, making her shudder.

Taking her reaction as a sign he could continue, Patrick wasted no time in pulling her knickers off her and burying his face between her legs. His tongue and lips went to work on her, tracing her folds and swirling over her clit and sucking it hard and plunging inside her. She was getting wetter and wetter as he continued his efforts. Her thighs clenched rhythmically around his ears and her hips grinded against his face. He could just hear her breathy moans as she tried to keep quiet and not wake the children.

Shelagh felt a sort of madness overtake her. She could barely breathe as electric jolts lit up her nerve endings and shot through her body. This was not something that Patrick always did for her. With so many children in the house, they did not often have time for such luxuries. Usually, they used their mouths only for kissing each other as his hands worked their magic on her until they joined and reached their climax together. But early on in their marriage, Patrick had very lovingly introduced her to all varieties of sex and pleasure. She had been a quick study and a very enthusiastic student. Lately, however, such creativity and excitement had been lacking in their bedroom. Not that the passion had entirely fizzled, of course; even now, when they'd both been exhausted and busy, it had only been just over a week since they'd last had sex. But it had been nothing like this.

Patrick had to hold her hips down as she jerked and spasmed with her climax. She gasped a bit loudly as pleasure pulsated through her core. He could feel the rippling waves of it against his mouth as he lapped up the rush of wetness that flooded her. But Patrick was not nearly finished. Not by half. He wanted to completely banish the very notion that his wife owed him sex. He wanted to convince her of entirely the opposite, that it was he who had the duty to ensure she was properly satisfied.

And to that end, Patrick let go of her hip with one hand and shifted where he lay to thrust his fingers inside her. He started with one, then two, then three, curling up to reach that place that would undo her, twisting and pounding into her as he built her up again. She was thrashing around on the bed, whimpering and biting her lips to keep from crying out. And finally, she shattered for him again. He did not relent until he had brought her a third orgasm on the heels of the second.

Shelagh went limp as she gasped for air and twitched with the aftershocks. Only then did Patrick let go of her, wipe his face on the bedsheet, and crawl back up the bed. His own erection was throbbing painfully in his pants, and he needed to allow himself some attention. He rolled Shelagh to her side, once her breathing was slowing to a safer rate. Patrick pressed himself against her back, his cock hard against the pert swell of her bum. He kissed the side of her neck and murmured, "My Shelagh, my love, my darling," over and over and over.

His words were music to her. Music to harmonize with the thrumming melody of pleasure coursing through her body. She smiled and lifted her leg to curl back over his thigh. Patrick got the message and freed himself from his pajamas before sliding inside her soaking wet warmth. Shelagh sighed happily at the sensation of him filling her.

Patrick began to move inside her. It was not a hard, desperate coupling. No, he did not want that now. He had told her he could help her relax and to pleasure her. He would not pound into her like some unhinged beast. Such things were for another time. Now, he wanted to savor their union, wanted to imbue every movement with his shining love and adoration. He moved slowly and methodically, rocking in and out of her, dragging his cock against her inner walls so each of them felt every single inch of it.

As they continued on, Patrick's hands wandered up her nightgown to her breasts and down to stroke her clit in time to his thrusts. She keened for him, quiet but needy. "Patrick," she moaned just as she came again.

That rolling, clenching of her body on his was more than enough to send him over the edge. He gave a gasping sort of grunt, pressing his face into her neck to muffle the sound as he spilled inside her with a few spurts.

Patrick held her close and could not let her go till he had regained control of his beating heart and gone soft within her beautiful body. Shelagh seemed to have practically passed out from the exhaustion of it all. He hadn't expected much else, but he was pleased to be able to bring her to such a sated state. He eventually slipped out of her and got out of bed. As quietly as he could, Patrick cleaned himself up and took a wet flannel from the bathroom to wipe away his own seed and her remaining wetness off her inner thighs. Her body was so tender from his attentions that she made a little whimpering noise as he cleaned her gently. But Shelagh did not wake. Patrick did not bother to find where he'd tossed her knickers. They'd be waiting for her in the morning on the floor somewhere.

When Patrick got back into bed with her and took her in his arms, he quickly fell asleep with a smile on his face. He had performed well for his wife, he knew, showing her his love and devotion as best he could. And that was truly his duty in their marriage.

No, Patrick corrected himself, not a duty. A privilege.


End file.
